


Ugly

by MUNASHIKU



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Gaslighting, M/M, Masturbation, One Shot Collection, Sexual Fantasy, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-25 09:49:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30087267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MUNASHIKU/pseuds/MUNASHIKU
Summary: He was sougly.CH2: rated G, themes of gaslighting.CH3: L and a hopeless fantasy.CH4: rated G, Light has cake on his face. L notices.CH5: rated G, Light picks up smoking.
Relationships: L/Yagami Light
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Was supposed to be focusing on chem class but my brain was like “hey remember that L’s ugly in-canon?”  
> ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Light.

He had built a world of beauty. It was an ongoing project, but he’d cleansed the world of much of its impurities, the ugliness that was crime. He, the essence of perfection, the farthest thing from what defined ugly, but as he lay there in his bed that night, his mind was preoccupied with the ugliest thing of all: L.

L, the man who came so close to taking away Earth’s salvation, the one person given the power necessary to make it beautiful again.

Light couldn’t help but moan as he squeezed tightly around his dick. His fantasies started off with some unnamed, beautiful woman, but it always quickly devolved into that dirty smudge on his shoe.

The man who had such an ugly face. He was a sight for sore eyes. He had dark, bruised-like bags under eyes too large for his face—the lack of eyelid fold speaking of Asian genetics but an unfortunate nose that didn’t complement the structure of his face. His lack of eyebrows making him look some sort of primitive Mongoloid. Bitten fingernails that had dirt underneath them despite the man never going anywhere. The bad breath, the ugly pig intestine lips. Much too ugly to wrap themselves around his pristine staff, though he applied more lube to his hands to simulate a hot, wet, willing mouth. Light knew his own value; to spill his seed on that ugly face would only make looking at the man more palatable.

Why couldn’t he find arousal in any of the beautiful, virtuous women that walked the streets of his world? He understood why he couldn’t get hard to Misa—she was loud and obnoxious and couldn’t think for herself—but there were plenty of brilliant ladies who wanted his hand in marriage.

Why did it have to be an ugly blight to his success that aroused such life in him?

The man who had such an ugly disposition. He slouched and squatted like a third world migrant, slovenly in his appearance and disgusting in how he ate—tongue extending from his mouth like an alien prospecting new land with unsightly appendages. Picked at his teeth with those fingernails as though manners didn’t apply to him. Yet Light’s fingers played at his head as though the detective were licking at his head like the world’s tastiest lollipop. Light couldn’t fool himself—it would feel a lot better if it were L doing this to him instead of his own fingers.

The man who had an ugly view on what justice was. The world couldn’t wait for each crime’s guilty verdict to be determined through a court of law. The justice system had faults—even with L. L didn’t get a guilty verdict on all the cases that needed them.

Light choked on his own spit in his gasps.

L claimed it was the best way for justice to be solved, yet so many more people got hurt through his methods. With Light’s methods, many people would prosper—those who were unable to defend themselves, those who couldn’t stand up for themselves, those who just want to live without fear of being harmed—what would it take to make that a reality? The Death Note was the perfect answer to that issue.

The same hand that killed millions of humans was only able to bring its god to completion by the fantasy of the ugliest thing it was not able to wipe away itself:

L.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adding this on here because it has that theme of ‘ugly’, but it’s not rated mature. Takes place during Yotsuba arc. God, I really should be studying for my exam that’s today.

It all started because one day Light offhandedly commented that L was ugly.

L did not care for what others thought of his appearance. Appearance wasn’t what solved cases; however, L was aware that he was not as attractive as the general population.

Having to hear Light say it straight to his face without any shame. He didn’t even do anything to deserve the insult. He was just sitting there, eating ice cream and had whipped cream smeared on his face from his sloppy eating, when Light turned to him and just called him ugly.

The younger man had been displaying some contempt toward L recently, which was understandable given that L was not the type of person Light was used to hanging out with, and L had forced Light out of a place of comfort and habit and forcing him to be in close proximity via a chain.

Maybe it was because he was keeping Light up too late, and the irritability from sleep deprivation had finally gotten too much and now everything in Light’s mind was slipping past his lips.

With little progress, even L couldn’t hold back his own irritability. Instead of lashing out at Light for his useless comment, he concocted a scheme.

Whenever L would infer that Light was Kira, Light would shoot back with denial. Light, despite not having the same demeanor he used to carry since before he’d been imprisoned, still had an innate sense of what ‘good’ and ‘bad’ were. He viewed injustice, crime, evil as ugly, much like his father instilled upon him through childhood.

If Light refused to acknowledge that he was Kira, L would show Light how ugly Light really was.

.o

The first instance, he wasn’t sure if Light even noticed.

It was late at night, Light settling down in bed and idly watching the news while L squatted nearby, typing away at his laptop. The news was broadcasting recent criminals who were either wanted for their crime or caught for their crime. The faces flashed on the screen, nameless in an attempt to reduce the killings by Kira. The standard Asian men of varying appearance, until an oddity appeared among the rest.

A young male with brunette hair. Not Asian, but having a similar jaw line to Light. Same eye colour as well. Wanted for burglary.

L briefly glanced at Light to note his reaction. When Light didn’t appear to react at all, he stared back at his work.

.o

The next night, another oddity flashed on the screen of criminals. A young brunette, Asian with more striking features similar to Light’s.

He knew Light noticed. Light tensed up.

.o

Two nights later, though spread apart, two brunettes appeared this time, one of them relatively distinct from Light, and one that looked eerily similar to Light.

A deep frown set on Light’s face.

That night, L noticed Light having what appeared to be a nightmare, if the tossing and turning was any indication. A guilty conscious of Kira, perhaps.

.o

L had informed the news channels to include these men in their broadcasts. It was difficult to find individuals who fit the criteria of his plan; young Asian brunettes were extremely hard to find in prison, and so he had hundreds of different hyper-realistic mockups made of not only Asian brunettes who looked similar to Light, but those who didn’t look anything like Light, and included them in the broadcast. He still wasn’t sure how Kira was killing people (aside from needing a name—which most could be found through the internet), but he didn’t want to make it extremely obvious that his fake criminals did not exist… In conjunction with the real Asian brunettes found in prison, he used the fakes, to cover as much ground as possible.

These broadcasts of Yagami Light lookalikes were getting to Light himself. The boy, while seemingly virtuous, still had vainness to him. He prided himself on his looks, intelligence, and how he carried himself. To think of committing a crime—at least as he was currently—was unthinkable; he may as well give up his family’s name if he were to break the law.

To stare at his face on the television, a face that committed a crime, unsettled Light. He started primping more often and staying up _longer_ if only to prove to himself that he wasn’t a bad person, that someone like him could never do something heinous like hurting others.

If L commented on Light’s tired appearance, instead of Light’s claim of wanting to solve the Yotsuba case as soon as possible, it was now that he was trying his best because that’s all he could do.

When L made inferences of Light being Kira, instead of the instantaneous “I’m not Kira!” there was hesitation. Perhaps it was sleep deprivation. Perhaps it was a guilty conscious.

Yagami Light, aware that a man who has his face could do something as ugly as commit murder. It was right there on the news broadcast. An unnamed man with Yagami Light’s face who had committed murder three times.

You are not perfect, Yagami Light. You can be just as ugly as any other person. There are those that can see you for what you are instead of what you pretend to be. L thought to himself as he stirred his melting ice cream sundae, staring at the boy who looked like he wanted to murder the man on screen.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I CAN’T STOP MYSELF I LOVE UGLY EEEE. This is an alternate ending to the series, where Light was caught and executed for his crimes before Rem could nuke L.

Every man he bedded looked like _him_.

Not _exactly_ like _him_ , but close enough that if he let his vision blur, he could fantasize that it was.

The fantasy breaker was always when he buried his nose into their shoulder and took in their scent. It never smelled like _him_ , that peculiar scent that only _he_ carried. The closest he could get to replicating it was through the laundry detergent and fabric softener Watari used to clean both their clothes during their time together during the Yotsuba investigation and the cologne that _he_ used to dab on here and there.

Whenever he bedded someone, they were required to wear an article of clothing prepared by him that had that scent mixed in.

Anything to help disguise the cracks of ugly that marred their otherwise beautiful faces.

The ugly was the imperfections that made them not _him_.

They all had similar features—they were Asian with brunette hair. Some of them had dyed their hair to _his_ hair colour, a shade or two off, some of them had the natural hair colour _he_ had. They all had _his_ brown eyes, but he’d never see that beautiful amber colour they’d turn in the sunlight because he didn’t ever want to face them in the daytime. Only at night, where their ugliness could be obscured enough to pretend it was the real beauty he craved.

Their faces, he could imagine it was _him_ as they contorted it in ecstasy—was it real or faked? He preferred to think that _he_ faked it all when he was on top, because _he_ would never let someone as ugly as him taint _his_ beautiful body —and be pleased about it—with so much as a dab of sweat unless it was in a fighting match of hands and feet.

He couldn’t stop chasing _him_ in his mind long after the chase had ended in the real world.

Oh, how he painted their insides with his grime. He made sure to never waste his load; all of it needed to be on them or in them, not a drop on the bed, ground, anywhere but them. _He_ would never let him do this; _he_ was too beautiful to be… like this.

Semen being smeared on abs that don’t resemble _his_ sometimes, but he could pretend _he_ was just slacking off a bit from tennis or exercise, which was why sometimes their abs weren’t showing due to a bit of fat when they’re being dirtied by his cum.

Ever since _he_ was caught and executed, life lost a lot of the beauty that _his_ presence also instilled in it. The bad became worse as the feared Kira no longer struck down criminals for their crime—it was a free-for-all once people realised this fact and the crime rate skyrocketed. Colour lost its luster much as he lost some enthusiasm for detective work. His brain didn’t light up the way it did before during an intriguing case. The ugly became uglier.

Am I so ugly now, he’d fantasize himself asking _him_ as he plowed into _his_ tight hole, dirtying it with his own ugly staff. But the body doubles always enjoyed it. Always seemed to let him have his way without much of a fight, even when it was requested. They just didn’t understand what _he_ was like. Their hesitation to give it their full effort to fight, their lack of ability in verbal judo.

The moonlight didn’t hit their eye in the same way.

Their voices were wrong.

Their laughs were wrong.

Their smiles were wrong.

It’s not perfect, it’s just ugly.

He supposed he should be used to it, seeing as the only person he’d be able to look in the mirror every night was himself. Not like before, when there was the antonym of ugly standing next to him.

Ugly, he’d have to settle for.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Light has cake on his face. L notices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like the word ‘ugly’ because it can describe much more than just physical appearances. It’s a mindset and a preference and a descriptor all in one. I’m so attached to it I make these stupid stories. I’m literally supposed to be doing homework that’s due today. This one is a lot less mean than the other chapters. It’s lighthearted!  
> Based on [this gif](https://the-chokey.tumblr.com/post/633518344720580608/).

What a waste of perfectly good cake.

Yagami Light was indulging in sugar (for once!), a home cooked dessert prepared by L’s favourite bakery. Korolevsky cake, also known as Russian Royal Cake, was a concoction of cherries, poppyseed, and hazelnut with dulce de leche frosting. It wasn’t a very sugary dessert compared to the majority of the desserts L consumed, but that’s probably what allowed Light to agree to eating some of it.

The combination of a thick whip around the outside combined with a soft but crumbly interior tended to leave crumbs around one’s mouth.

L’s eyes honed in on those crumbs that lined Light’s mouth.

Unfortunately, Light wiped them away with his napkin. To leave food painted on your face was considered unclean and the sign of a slob. Heaven forbid Light leave any signs of imperfection on his face.

L thought Light looked kind of nice with cake on his face.

.o

He was eating cake again. An angel cake with a thick chocolate pudding interior.

L couldn’t help but watch as each forkful of that soft, fluffy cake made its way into Light’s mouth. Watching as he chewed it, eyes lowering slightly to see his throat pull it down into his stomach.

L licked his lips, tasting the whipped cream that remained on his mouth.

Light had some whipped cream left on his mouth, too.

…he wasn’t wiping it away. Maybe he didn’t know it was there.

He couldn’t resist. Light eating sweets was strangely a turn on to L, considering Light preferred not to engage in anything that L was interested in, with the exception of detective work.

He wheeled his chair forward, hand outreached. Light froze, unsure of how to respond to L’s approach, as L had never moved in this manner before. The younger boy’s eyes took on a harder edge, analyzing, wondering what L was up to, what he could have possibly done to provoke the detective’s scrutiny.

L’s outstretched hand made contact with Light’s jaw, cold hand cupping it gently while his thumb wiped away the whipped cream that sat on the corner of Light’s mouth.

Staring Light dead in the eyes, he brought his thumb to his own mouth and licked off the whipped cream. Sharp eyes widened in shock and L was pretty sure he could hear Light’s heart stop, that Kira had gotten to him.

L stared down at his thumb as though it were the most interesting thing in the world. “This was inadvertently our first kiss,” L commented in monotone.

Light punched him in the face.

L smashed a pie into Light’s face.

It was Light’s favourite kind of pie.

God, Light was beautiful with the colourful, professionally-adorned confections smeared all over his beautiful face.

.o

That night, Light complained about how the hardened pastry was so difficult to remove from his hair, and that the colour-dyed adornments on the pie had bled their colour onto his skin, giving him an ugly makeup job on his face.

L smiled like a child, thinking he would do it more often if not for the fact that it wasted perfectly good cake.

“Saliva works great to dissolve the chemicals that make up those products,” L called out to Light, who was in the bathroom.

“What?” the youth responded.

“I’m offering to lick it off of you.”

“What?” Light stuck his head out of the bathroom as though he thought he were mishearing things.

“Nothing.” But L couldn’t help but smile when he saw that miscoloured face. It’d wash out after a few runs but L would definitely have to do it again, regardless of the waste of sugar. Perfect looks better with imperfections, he decided.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Light picks up smoking.

L wondered if the days upon days of accusation were worth it. He wondered if the levels of frustration he brought upon others were worth it. Worth it enough to taint something so beautiful.

Light was out there on the roof, and he was smoking.

They were joined only by that chain, so L was out on the roof, too, and he wasn’t enjoying inhaling secondhand smoke from Light’s habit.

Light didn’t want to smoke; he didn’t enjoy it. But it was his source of relief when the initial source of relief was banned. His father said that he wouldn’t be able to remain working in law enforcement if he continued to assault L without just reason. He couldn’t just punch the detective when the detective drove him up the wall. That was against the law, and Yagami Soichiro would not make exceptions for his son.

The nicotine was his go-to for relief.

Any time Ryuuzaki said something that pissed him off, he’d have to excuse himself and drag L along all the way up the stairs to the roof. To L, it ended up being frustrating, as the breaks he had to take for Light’s stress relief were eating into his time on the Yotsuba case.

L offered that Light could smoke inside of the building, but Light responded that he didn’t want to bother the other members with the smell, and smoking inside would trap the scent all around him; he needed the open air to take away that stink that was associated with smoking. The wind could only do so much, however. The smell of a cigarette clung to whatever surface it could touch. It clung to Light’s clothes, hair, skin, and one could smell wherever he walked that he smoked. It was an unattractive smell, one that would cause others to do a double-take when they passed the perfect boy. The valedictorian picked up smoking? Why pick up such an ugly habit?

Not only was it an ugly habit, but it was making the boy ugly. Smoking depreciated everyone’s appearance. It had only been a few months, but L could tell that the boy looked older. It was a minuscule change, but smoking wreaked havoc on one’s skin. Not only that, but the exposure to the sun involved with being outside added to his skin’s premature aging.

He sometimes touched at Light’s face when he slept. Traced the wrinkles that would inevitably set in his face early from the smoking.

Every time he wrapped his lips around that stick of cancer, he could see the wrinkles forming, so unsightly. Those perfect white teeth had a bit of yellowing to them now. L’s eyes were once attracted to that beautiful smile, however fake it was, but now he had to avert his gaze because the damage reminded him that _he_ was the reason for Light’s disfigurement.

A persistent cough followed Light wherever he went. At first, it was a cough here and there, but it became second nature as he’d cough every ten minutes or so, his body’s pitiful attempt to clean out his lungs. The only time the coughing ceased was when Light was asleep, but the moment he started rousing out of it, the coughing began again.

He always ruined something in each case. Not necessarily damaging evidence or messing something up, but his presence had an unfortunate effect on others of just ruining people’s day, taking them from a good mood to a bad mood with his inability to relate with others or converse without defaulting to logic over emotion. Humans thrived on emotion in conversation; to throw that all away and disregard how they feel was a quick way to get them to turn against you.

He sometimes wished he had been raised with better social skills to prevent himself from driving someone like Light to the point of needing to beat him to release his stress… because if he weren’t that stressed, he wouldn’t be smoking as a way to release that stress, fleeting as the relief may be.

As he sat with Light on the roof during another smoking break, he looked at the cigarette held lightly between two fingers, and wished he could take it all back. He wished he could apologize for taking away Light’s beauty. The young man looked at something in the distance, the sun striking his eyes and revealing a beautiful red colour.

The cigarette could drain away life in all other aspects, but it would never be able to drain that beautiful colour. That’s the only thing L could bear to stare at in Light’s face anymore. Eyes full of life in an ugly, dying body.

.o

At L’s funeral, Light put out the last cigarette he’d ever smoke by planting it in the soil of L’s grave. Good riddance.


End file.
